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The Poets of Blood' Blood Fest 2010
Hello to the Community

For the love of horror, and the respect for, shall we say ‘the darker arts‘- this is the foundation for which The Poets of Blood’s castle has been built.

The casual, contemporary horror created today, although engrossing, lacks a passion due to societies over-stimulation in this genre; leaving a trail of blood-thirsty fans to dehydrate, while desperately they search for just a drop of terror, to wet their pallet.

Where else can true, raw, controversial, horror truly be mastered, if not- in poetry. Poetry, through the ages has proven to be that which is socially taboo in outward expression, as well as excepted, and respected in various social circles. This fact is why poetry is unequivocally a suited design to present horror to those that fiend for night-terrors, during the waking hour.

On one stormy night in late July 0f 2009, two poets joined forces to search out others that share this interest. Madelynn-me, and WordSlinger. Conceived a union on the internet poetry website,, and a child was born. This child’s name was Alexia Osborn-username Poets of Blood.

We hunted by night, crawling into poet’s pages, as they slept- searching for those that wrote with exceptional horror- flair.

The poets which have joined her ’family’ have proven to be some of the most masterfully talented, undiscovered, horror writers to grace the internet today.

The Poets of Blood

And they will be posting here in this thread.

We hope you find our poetry satisfying to your tastes,

We are here to share poetry, read poetry, make friends,

and expand our love for poetry.



Beware, scandalous maiden
For what stalks the midnight
Your porcelain neck is his covet
Death, his sexual delight

Smothered breath, My Dear
Will be your conclusion
In his grip, you'll gasp
As you satisfy his delusions

Your chapter will begin
On a fog laden path
Cobblestone steps echo
You fear you'll meet his wrath

Hurried, your pace quickens
As you peer behind you
In a black carriage he rides
Sinful deeds, your damned due

The cursed horse approaches
A prominent man's ride
Coach lantern swings to and fro'
The stage halts by your side

The door opens slow
Gloved hand, now appears
Two shillings, the price
To drowned out your fears

Unsure, you step closer
As sin's greed calls you in
\"What's your desire, Sir?\"
You chime, curtsy, and grin.

The driver steps down
Opening the door
Of course, you step in
That's the law of a whore

Inside you can't see him
His hooded cape, drawn low
Unfastening your dress
To entice him to sow

His eyes slowly take note
You lean back on the seat
Kicking off your heeled boots
;and offer him your feet

\"Play with me ankles, fine Sir.\"
You tease with a pointed toe
Yet still, he holds silent
Then you untie your cloak bow

His arousal now climbs
When you hike up your skirt
His hand moves up your thigh
As he feels to insert

\"Now that's a good, shy, boy.\"
You whisper, as he plays
Feeling his gloved hand
You shift down aways

Deeper he now drives
You move, and you thrust
His sight, on your exposed breast
Taking your heaved breath, now a must

Your eyes close tight with passion
Yes, this gentleman pleases well
Then, his cloak rains around you
He will now bid you to hell

Offering yourself to him
You brace your legs around tight
Pulling him to you closer
He plunges forth with full might

Diligent, he works
He fills you now whole
Intense, his seduction
That you, should pay the toll

He grips your breast hard
While he licks your face
Soon he'll leave you scarred
His pulse starts to race

As you both begin rapture
Six words, his voice will cry
First, he'll say,\"I love you.\"
Before he whispers,\"You must die.\"

That moment your eyes meet
His glove covers your throat
You gasp, and try to breathe
While you rip at his coat

Faster, becomes his stride
Pressing harder as you cough
Prostitution suicide
On your last breath, he'll get off

So, Dearest Maiden think twice
Before two shillings, you're bought
Beware, the dark streets of London
You see...'Jack the Ripper', was never caught!

Thank you,, from us

The Poets of Blood, :X
The Poets of Blood\" Bleeding for a Cause
Blood Play

Passion burns bright and hard in me
for blood play, for blood play…

I opened my little black box
And let the depraved edge cut its way out…
Now, warm delicious bodies lay by
Stunned and terrorized at what they saw
In my fathomless eyes…

I am not a monster.
Not so different from you.
Do you not have inner demons
That threaten to consume?

You all make your sacrifices
In your own subtle ways.
Don’t you point your fingers
‘til you hear what I say!

Maybe you deny yourselves
Some pleasure every day.
Or think yourselves above the rest -
Now you’re on display!

I’ve arranged your broken bodies
In the most pleasing poses.
Made no attempt to clean the blood
That’s lacing from your noses.

My dark shadow
Moves about the room
Looking for what may be left.

Here, a battered piece of meat
Whose soul has recently fled.

Nothing left to do here –
You have all been so gracious.
I close up the blackest toy box
Then lick my fingers – delicious.

I had a dream I was a poet

Self-induced psychosis

Wealth for many uses

Relative importance and usefulness

The way to a happier existence

Alive, with consciousness

Animal and Human spirit alliances

Partaking courage and mystery;

Becoming, one with word craftiness

The fertile rite, the epitome

The Thief of Fire

A virus of written text that spreads,

discovering a way out of this false world

Like water shall find a place to go

He shall find a time to burn
the false world fro

A revolutionary blend

A evolutionary trend

A trail of ashes to the wind he sends

A revolutionary mend

No entity shall claim him

Not even the coldness of society

He’s a brave slave of the Gods in graves

He seen the trap, sitting on realities lap

He lifted a flap, busted a gap,
and left no map

He has found much, more
greater spiritual powers

He has seen the surveillance
hidden in the flowers

Star demons in heaven’s great prison

contraband, what he does now possess

He broke the wings of the Devil,

you-know who, so confess

History is mud

History is mud

History is dirty

Look, here comes

a flood of blood

to flood upon thee

The fire doesn’t leak or drift, and how-

he has total control, is fast and swift

He's a super fire carnival swirling along

with his super fire circus world,
so now lift that song

Those thousands of tongues sing,
and tell the tale

Of the thief on the lake of fire he does sail

So sing on, all boys and girls

He comes to her by starlight
Enchants her with his spell
She begs and pleads for mercy
A captive of his hell

One look into his golden eyes
She knows she has no chance
A soft caress along her cheek
And she is in his trance

The breeze whips through the window
Swirling dust with icy breath
Her neck exposed in offering
Awaiting this sweet death

A kiss upon her shoulder
Anticipations rise
Light from the candle dances
On the walls before it dies

And when the moon grows stonger
The hunger takes control
He sinks his teeth into her vein
A groan falls from her throat

They dance around this dark room
To an unheard melody
The evil guiding this waltz
Is her source of ecstasy

He gently lies her on the bed
Both sated for the night
She'll fall into his arms again
His countess of the light
Scarlet Libation

Thick garnet jewels rock silent waves in a crystal cup

I loft the precious prison to firelight’s eye

I smile impishly for I have no intent to deny

My desire, my longing for life essence, the ruby drop

This incredulous countenance I did not seek nor dream

An Ancient One fed me his intoxicating morphine

In nightmares for eons that waged, I truly did recall

The burning anger of God, damnation, and the Great Fall

Ekimmu, Sekhmet, and darling Lilitu are the
beautiful saviours throughout the ages

Rescuing those fallible ones and humans who read these pages

Seek out your sweet eternal salvation with trepidation

The secret to a blissful forever lies in submission to
Scarlet libation.

Love is Eternal

Fairer in spring than the gentian down of indigos
dancing down paths of sweet violet and tuberose
The alpine nymph seeks a perfect dream, her sacred pine
A fearsome angel, scented arms to her incline
Spellbound by his beauteous glory and passionate affection
The dryad slumbers in a lover’s haze, oblivious to imperfection
The gloomiest of hidden things is that living is not eternal
His arms will wither and his day will fade to nocturnal
Ardent love and mystical spirits, however, do entwine
Sweet violet and tuberose will befriend them until the end of time.
The Faery Master

You snipped my beautiful wings
and cast them away
You smiled at my growing fear
and said I must obey

You are the Master of the evening
and know that I am lost
You seek to enslave me
and punish me if you're cross

Your fangs lengthen slowly
and I run into the wood
You are close behind me
and cover me with a hood

You snatch my delicate wrists
and tie them tight
You kiss my shoulder, my neck
and cruelly bite

You twist your fangs inside my skin
and my tears run fast
You make me moan in pain
and beg for it to last

You stroke me slowly with your hand
and cup my breast
You tease my trembling thighs
and refuse me rest

You push your fangs in hard, deep
and I'm panting faster
You bring me to the edge of death
and I scream, Master!
Hello everyone.
You can find the Poets of Blood on youtube now. please visit and subscribe.

Alexia and the Poets of Blood...

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